A Beautiful Soul
by DevilLlamaChan
Summary: Cas/Dean fluff. :3 One night Dean is paid a visit by his angel... who's acting a bit strange. :D  This then leads to several more odd visits.
1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened was when Sam left to grab burgers from a restaurant not too far away from the motel they were staying in.

Dean was bored, so while he entrusted his 'Baby' to his brother he decided to clean his guns. A slow chore but at least it passed the time, and Dean didn't mind at all. He was sat on his bed surrounded with his weaponry and was cleaning a small pistol he had taken out last from the bottom of his duffel bag. His leather jacket was slung on the other bed in front of him, and a cold beer was sat opened and half full on the bedside table between the two beds.

Dean was humming. A thing he did often while he was by himself, as Sam often told him to 'Quit it.' while sporting one of his famous bitch faces as he tried to research about their case, and well…lets face it, humming isn't exactly _manly _is it?

But it was easier than whistling.

Anyways, Dean was alone cleaning his guns when all of a sudden he wasn't so alone anymore. He didn't notice at first, but the person was so quiet it was as if he wasn't there at all.

"You have a beautiful soul." Said a familiar, deep, deadpanned voice. Dean jolted, startled, and pulled the trigger on the pistol he was clutching. A clicking sound was heard and Dean nearly sighed in relief at the realisation that he hadn't shot his foot. Annoyed, he looked up and glared at Castiel, the nerd angel, who sat across from him on the other bed with a blank face and a straight back.

Of course the usual trench coat was still there. Dean tried to think whether or not he'd ever seen the angel without it… no memory came to mind. "God damn it Cas." Said Dean as he went back to cleaning the gun in hand, "Ya' nearly made me shoot my damn foot off." Castiel, or Cas, narrowed his eyes at Dean's use of the word God, obviously Dean didn't know the mean of the word blasphemy. But he ignored it, after all Castiel had been watching over this human for quite sometime now and knew all about his habits. He'd even pulled the younger male from Hell, and he'd seen Dean's soul for what it was.

And what a soul it was…which brings us back to the situation.

"I am sorry, Dean." Says Castiel as he watches, fascinated as Dean picks up a slightly larger gun and takes it apart. Dean sighs deeply,

"It's fine Cas." He says, tiredly. The effort from the day's hunt finally taking its toll. "Anyway, what the hell did you mean by 'beautiful soul'?"

Castiel shuffles slightly as Dean turns his green eyes towards him, the action is noticed and Dean wonders the fact that he didn't know angels became uncomfortable. "Your soul, it glows." Says Castiel, as if talking about a person's soul is everyday business.

Which, for an angel, it probably is.

The reaction from Dean wasn't quite what Castiel had expected. The hunter blinked at him for a few seconds as he processed what had been said, and _laughed_. The laughter rolled around the walls of the motel room, surrounding Castiel in its hearty embrace. The laugh was warm and loud, as if Dean hadn't laughed in a while, and for once…he was actually happy. Castiel felt warm at the thought that he was the one to make Dean feel better after an obviously stressful day, which was strange seeing as he hardly feels anything. This human seemed to bring out sides of him he never knew existed.

Sadly the laughter dies down to quiet chuckles as Dean places the gun down by his side. He clasped his hands together and leant forward on his knees,

"What's this about Cas?" Dean asks curiously, a hint of amusement and curiosity hidden in his green eyes. Castiel blinks at him with a blank look still on his face, but his blue eyes showed Dean much more.

Was Cas…embarrassed?

"It seems I have failed to grasp a human's concept of giving compliments." Castiel replies after a brief pause. He tilts his head in confusion and continues. "I did not think you laughing was the intended reaction."

Dean nods his head as he listens and sits back, he grabs his beer from nearby and takes a gulp from the bottle before replacing it to the bedside table. "Well…its not everyday I'm told I have a beautiful soul." Says Dean with a grin. "It was funny, but…thanks, I guess." He then goes back to cleaning his gun and misses the small smile on Castiel's face.

The next time Dean looks up the angel's gone. Dean shakes his head slightly at the weirdness that had just transpired. But since then Dean's a little happier and he smiles as Sam comes back and hands him his burger.

Sam notices but doesn't say anything. He was silently glad as an unhappy Dean means an unhappy Sam. And surprisingly that night Dean sleeps peacefully.

Well there's a first time for everything.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time it happens is coincidently when they meet the second Horseman from Hell. Famine, this one was called, sending people crazy, making them starve, _crave,_ for what their soul needs most. For Sam it's the demon blood that he's worked so hard to resist, even Castiel is affected, Jimmy's human body craves red meat and the Angel of the Lord is effectively distracted from their mission. And all who's left, is Dean.

Who craves, well… _nothing._

Dean knew it was strange as he stared at the wrinkled old man in his wheelchair by himself, while Cas and Sammy are satisfying their needs. But the 'tough guy' expression is there, the one Dean remembers his Dad, John, having to wear when the going gets tough. But Famine knows, he _knows_ Dean is worried as he smirks at him from his seat. Dean wishes Sam was there, he needs him, his brother, so he knows he's safe, so he can see for himself that Sam's tried not to sate his thirst. But Dean isn't stupid, when he and Castiel left him in that hotel room Dean knows that soon enough demons will attack him, and Sam will satisfy his craving.

All of sudden Famine wheezes. It takes Dean a moment to realise that the old guy is laughing, he wheezes like a tyre being put down and he only stops when he coughs and splutters. 'Good.' Dean thinks, 'I hope the son of a bitch chokes.' But he doesn't, he opens his mouth, speaks to Dean with a grin on his wrinkled face as he croakily lets out,

"And why is it that Dean Winchester isn't falling for my curse?" He croaks. It's a rhetorical question, the look in Famine's eyes let's Dean know the old guy knows more than he's letting on. Dean can't help but also think he knows the answer, he can just feel it. And Dean wishes even stronger that the guy had choked to death as he grins at Dean knowingly, peering at Dean so intensely Dean can't help but shiver, it felt like the man was looking into his goddamn _soul._ Famine opens his mouth to speak again, and Dean knows, _he knows_ what Famine's going to say next.

"Don't." He growls taking a step forward before being yanked back by Famine's lackeys. The old man's grin widens, and Dean almost thinks he's going to laugh again, but he doesn't.

"Because, _Dean Winchester_ is empty inside that chest of his. There's _nothing _that can satisfy-"

"Shut up!" Dean hisses, clenching his fists tightly by his sides. "Don't you _dare, _say another word." The old man wheezes some more, with that stupid toothy grin still planted on his face. Its quiet for a moment and all Dean can hear is the sound of Cas, snacking on red meat nearby, and Dean literally prays that he can't hear of any of this. That in truth Dean doesn't have a "Beautiful Soul" at all.

"Hmmm," Begins the old man once more. Dean doesn't like the sound of that and before he can think of moving away his arms are grabbed by the demons either side of him as Famine moves his motorised wheelchair towards him. Dean presses his lips tightly together, trying to calm his anger as the old man stretches out his pale, wrinkled hand towards the centre of his chest. Dean struggles knowing what the man's gonna do next, but he can't move, can't escape, and Dean really doesn't want to know, to find out that what the old man was saying was actually the _truth_. Famine's hand makes contact with his chest and is pressed firmly against the material of his shirt, Dean doesn't know what's going on but a pain blossoms out from where the man's touching. It makes his chest throb in such a way that Dean groans from the effect of it, the man sighs in content as if he's found what he was looking for. He pulls his hand away as Dean breathes out in relief as the almost sucking feeling stops. "Yes, that's one deep, dark _nothing_ you got there Dean."

Dean glares down at the man, mixed emotions swirling through him. But in a flash the 'tough guy' act is back in place so strongly, old John Winchester would have been proud. "Oh your so full of crap." Dean says gruffly as if his heart wasn't breaking inside him.

The man wheezes again, "Oh, you can smirk and joke, and lie to your brother, lie to _yourself_. But not to me!" The old man's voice finally sounding demonic as he leans forward slightly in the wheelchair. "I can see inside you Dean…I can see, how _broken _you are, how defeated. And you can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting…" Dean struggles then. He knows that if he hears anymore he'll turn into an even more broken man, that what's left of him will crumble at the knowledge that Dean's soul, is black and lifeless.

And when Dean thinks that the man's finally finished his crappy speech, finally stopped mentally torturing him, the old man speaks again, he says the exact words that Dean's been trying to ignore, "You're not hungry Dean because inside…you're already, _dead._"

Dean's world crumbles at that one word. Just hearing it was bad enough but just knowing that there's truth behind it makes Dean's façade drop and let Famine see him for the broken, lost, young man that he is. A man who's lost so much, seen things people would never believe, experienced pain at its strongest.

A man who is in way over his head.

And in that moment Dean's glad he's held so tightly by the demons, because he fears that if they weren't he'd be on his knees, defenceless and weak, failing his mission of collecting all the rings. But then Sammy's there, Dean looks up weakly at his brother, doesn't even notice the red blood stains around his mouth, it doesn't register to him when Sammy's using his powers to kill Famine. He just stands there until its over, just glad that Sam's _okay. _But then no one's holding him up and his knees are about to buckle, send him tumbling, before a hand grasps his shoulder in a tight, warm grip. Dean blinks and looks at Cas who is no longer paying attention to the red meat laying abandoned on the floor, Cas' face peers at him with slight worry, this is like an ice cold bucket over Dean's head as he stands up tall and the façade is up once more.

Sam appears a moment later, wiping his mouth while showing Dean the ring sat innocently in his palm, Famine's ring. Dean gives a slight grin which Sam returns, and if he ever noticed Dean looking a bit out of it he doesn't say anything. Then they leave, Dean tries not to feel too glad for Famine's death but just thinks that the guy deserved it anyway. They arrive at Bobby's and Dean can tell by the look in Cas' eyes what he must do, so he locks Sam up in Bobby's panic room, but his brothers screams of agony from the lack of demon blood hurt him deeply, and Dean can no longer take it. He walks outside dropping his façade once more as he looks to the sky, Dean presses his own hand to the place Famine had touched and can imagine the dark, black nothingness and it nearly becomes too much. What with all the weight he's already carrying on his shoulders.

For a second Dean actually considers praying but he knows its pointless anyway. What with God missing and the slight detail that all the Angels are _dicks. _

"He was wrong." Says a voice, making Dean swing round in surprise. He sighs deeply,

"_Cas…_" He says as the Angel in question tilts his head. Dean shakes his head in return and can't be bothered to lecture Cas on the topic of 'scaring the hell out of him'. "You heard then?" Dean really wishes Cas would say no, that he hadn't heard Famine at all but Dean knows what the answer's going to be, and he isn't at all surprised at the reply.

"Yes."

Dean laughs bitterly, this laugh so unlike the one a few days ago. It nearly makes Cas shiver. Dean doesn't notice and turns back around so he's facing away from the Angel, he's ashamed and he's knows that any minute now he'll probably shed a few tears. But he can't do it in front of Cas, can't let anyone know how weak he actually is. "So why aren't you strapping on your Angel wings and flying outta here?" Dean asks quietly, this is something he needs to know.

"Because what Famine said to you Dean, wasn't the truth." Is Cas' reply. And Dean can't help himself, he just isn't satisfied with the answer. He swings round quickly and steps towards Cas, his green eyes flashing angrily.

"Oh yeah? Where's your proof?" He shouts as he swings his arms out to indicate their surroundings. Cas turns quiet and looks away, almost timidly, and Dean's anger is knocked up a notch and he's full of bitterness. 'Well whadda ya know.' Dean thinks to himself, 'Famine was right.' Cas looks up at Dean with such sad eyes that Dean's nearly knocked of his high horse.

_Nearly_.

"I thought so…" Dean whispers. He places his hand over his chest once more and looks at Cas properly, no mask hiding his real feelings, no macho-ness, nothing. And Cas' eyes widen slightly at just how much pain is swimming behind Dean's eyes. Without thinking Dean grasps Cas' left hand and places it over the place where Famine had touched, Cas moves to pull away but Dean places his own hand over the Angel's and keeps it there. "See?" Dean says quietly, almost repulsed by how weak his voice sounds. "_Nothing._"

"Dean…" Begins Cas as Dean begins to shake his head furiously.

"No, don't." He whispers, not wanting to hear Cas confirm it for himself that Dean is _empty_. He drops his hand from over the top of Cas' but surprisingly Cas' hand stays where it is and presses itself a little firmer against Dean's chest. Dean's chest tingles at the effect of Cas' warm, _living_ hand. A completely different effect compared to Famine, his chest begins to flood with warmth and Dean's body tingles pleasantly from head to toe.

"What?" Dean whispers to himself, and even he can hear the wonder in his voice.

"Dean." Says Cas deeply as he searches Dean's face. "You are not empty, your soul is there waiting to be saved, underneath all that 'nothingness' Famine was telling you." Dean breathes in a weak breath as tears make their way to his eyes. He knows it's stupid but he can't help himself, he was so afraid that he was filled with nothing and to hear…

To hear that it was a _lie _is the best thing Dean has ever heard. He lets out a choked sob and his knees begin to buckle beneath him once more, but Cas is there straight away like he always is to grasp his shoulders and hold him close. And Dean doesn't even push him away, he just welcomes the surprising warmth and the knowledge that he has a soul, he's not alone,

And someone's taking care of _him _for once.

Dean has to say it's a great feeling, and he's not as awkward as he was before about crying as his first few tears start to fall and his broad shoulders start to shake a little. Cas doesn't say a word and just rubs Dean's back slowly, and soothingly. Dean doesn't know how long they were there in each others arms but he doesn't care, and that's a joy in itself. He couldn't give a damn about letting someone else comfort him.

As a few of the last tears fall from Dean's eyes he could swear he heard Cas sniffle a little but dismisses it, Angels don't cry and Dean would laugh loudly at anyone who told him otherwise. But just in case he clutches Cas' trench coat, leans on Cas' shoulder and wraps his other arm around the Angel's waist. If the Angel cares about Dean's sudden movement he doesn't show it, he even clutches slightly tighter than before.

While Dean tries not to smile at his Angel.

This one, was definitely _not _a dick.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time it happens is when Castiel pops into Bobby's living room. Scaring the crap out of everyone in the process, including Dean. Castiel had just come to a dead end in finding God and came back for a visit, mainly to see Dean but no one needed to know that.

"Jesus Cas!" Exclaimed Dean as the human turned to look at him. "You should really wear a bell." Confused he tilted his head, a bell? Why should he wear one? He wasn't a cow.

"Ignore him Cas." Retorted Sam, the younger brother. Saving Castiel the embarrassment of asking what Dean had meant, although he probably wouldn't of minded seeing as human emotions were still so strange. Dean glared at his brother while Bobby scoffed in the background,

"Idjits." He commented before wheeling into the kitchen, "I'm getting a beer." Sam and Dean were still locked in what seemed like a "Staring Contest" that Dean told him about. Castiel just stood there silently and didn't move an inch as the two brothers broke the silence and laughed at each other.

"Bitch."

"Jerk." The name calling was always in good humour, which confused Castiel but he had grown accustomed to the human brothers relationship. But the time for pleasantries must end, he wishes, needs, to speak with Dean alone and he cannot do so with Samuel Winchester in the room. Although Castiel has nothing against the nice man that Sam is, he knows Dean and what he has to say would make him uncomfortable if Sam heard too. So he stares at Sam blankly, communicating with his "freaky angel stare", dubbed by Dean, hoping he would understand. He was doing this for Dean, like he does everything for Dean.

Sam catches the Angel's stare and his laughter quietens. A few moments fly past as Dean notices the unnerving silence settling over the room, just as Castiel thinks it isn't going to work Sam nods briefly at him and smiles slightly as he turns to Dean and grins. "I wouldn't mind a beer myself." He says as he pulls his large frame out of the chair he'd crammed himself into about an hour ago.

"Get me one too, Sammy." Dean asks winking as Sam fakes annoyance at his older brother. Then, within the next few seconds, Castiel is alone with Dean. A few moments of silence before Castiel remembers that silence for too long makes humans nervous, awkward.

"Dean." He says, knowing that he can't stare at Dean for as long as he wishes, it makes him edgy even though Dean is the only human who can properly look him in straight in the eye as he does.

"Hm?" Hums Dean tiredly, not really paying attention to him. The magazine in his hands more interesting than Castiel, and for a brief moment that angers him until the feeling seeps away, he is an _Angel_ and he must remember his mission to find God.

"_Dean_." He says again. And there must have been something in his voice as Dean looks up sharply, green eyes bright with worry and curiosity.

"Cas?" He asks, and the nickname makes Castiel feel a bit lighter, calmer. Dean sits up from his slouching position on the couch and stares up at him, waiting, the magazine laying forgotten beside him. With Dean's attention on him Castiel can't help but feel warm under his gaze,

"My recent search for my Father has not gone so well." He begins, Dean nodding to his words. "It seems I will be with you again for several weeks before I find a lead." And Castiel catches the pleasure in Dean's eyes briefly before it is hidden once more, it was almost as if it had never been there at all. Dean smiles happily, the smile then changing into a full grin showing his clean, white teeth, creases appearing at the edges of Dean's eyes.

Dean's happy face.

The expression never fails to pull a smile onto Castiel's face as he still stands, arms hung by his side dressed in his rumpled suit and trusty trench coat. Dean pats the space beside him, confusing Castiel for a moment as he tilts his head. His charge just lifts an eyebrow up at him, "Sit." He says, the tone offering no argument. So he does just that, and sits beside Dean maybe a little too close, but if the hunter has a problem with Castiel breaching his personal space (again) he doesn't say anything. The room fills up with quiet again, and the Angel realises that neither Bobby or Sam have returned from the kitchen. It takes him another minute or two to realise that it was probably intentional, and the two men had given him a private audience with Dean, for which he is grateful. He knew humans could be smart from time to time, they were such fascinating creatures, especially Dean of course. He was the best of them all. Spending time with Dean, and his family, intrigues Castiel and he briefly wonders why his brother, Uriel, hates them so much. There were some bad humans, yes, but the good ones make up for them, Castiel just didn't understand him. But…

Uriel was _Uriel _after all.

Before he even realises it he has spoken, "Have you been sleeping peacefully?" Castiel peers at Dean suddenly wondering if he'd intruded into his privacy, but Dean just stares back levelly the grin on his face reducing to a small, but still warm, smile.

"Yeah…" He breathes. "Better than before anyway." Castiel is surprisingly happy to hear this and nods at Dean's answer, he is very glad but seeing as he is not so busy it wouldn't hurt to check up on Dean later on.

"That is," Castiel pauses. "Good news." Dean snorts a little while Castiel tilts his head in confusion. Had he done something funny? The hunter shakes his head slightly before silence reigned once more, Castiel didn't know what the proper etiquette was for times like this, humans were interesting but confusing. Dean moves his legs slightly, his knee brushing Castiel's own, the action sending shivers down Castiel's back a very…odd feeling. He nearly moves away but Dean is so close, and warm…and to Castiel he smelt faintly of apples, or an apple orchard in the summer. A very pleasant fragrance.

"I'm glad you're here Cas." Says Dean, slicing through the silence like a warm knife through butter. His deep voice startling Castiel for a second before he recovers and turns to look at Dean who is already watching him with an expression akin to amusement. Castiel feels warm at the confession and he smiles ever so slightly.

"I am glad to be here with you Dean." He replies and he immediately knows it was the correct answer. Dean's eyes turn to a bright green as the soft smile pulls at his plump lips, lighting up his face. The Sun chooses that moment to shine through the window, highlighting Dean in its golden glow, making Dean's short hair gleam. His eyes looking like they're sparkling at Castiel, the full black lashes creating an almost girlish effect on Dean's face as he blinks, brushing along his freckled cheeks. And _God_ he is…remarkable. Dean is…

Beautiful.

And its all for Castiel, _he_ is the one who placed that smile on Dean's face, and _he_ is the only one blessed with the vision of Dean sat before him in casual clothes but looking every bit as heavenly as the Angels Castiel knows. Maybe even more so. But then he realises he is staring as Dean's face frowns in confusion, Castiel looks away for a second or two. "Dean." He says softly as he turns back to look, the sight of seeing Dean again shocking him once more. Dean's frown softens as he nods slightly waiting for him to finish. Castiel doesn't really know what overcomes him as he leans forward with the desire to touch, to _taste_. But he knows that in doing so he will scare Dean, and that won't do. So, he does the next best thing. He sends a silent prayer to his Father as he closes the distance between them and softly brushes his lips to Dean's cheek.

The skin is smoother than he thought, and holds such warmth. And if Castiel had thought Dean had smelt nice before, that didn't compare to how luscious he smells up close. The contact is short lived but nice and as he leans back Castiel is almost afraid to see the expression on Dean's face. Will he be surprised? Angry? Disgusted? But it is none of those, Dean's face is serene, a look of pure bliss in his eyes and a slight blush colouring his cheeks. "_Cas._" He whispers longingly, the sound like a whimper to Castiel's ears. The nickname for him, _Dean's _name for him, propelling him forward as he leans in to kiss the other cheek, pressing his lips a bit more firmly this time. Dean lets out a soft sigh, the breeze blowing over Castiel's cheek and neck.

He is no longer just Castiel, Angel of the Lord, he is Dean's Angel, his Castiel, his _Cas_. And he's perfectly fine with that, he discovers. He revels in the fact that he means something to Dean, and he is needed, so his biggest concern is to forever be Dean Winchester's angel, Cas the Holy Tax Accountant.

A cough echoes into the room as both he and Dean snap their eyes to look at the doorway. Sam is stood there, two cold beers in his hands the condensation melting down the sides as he stares bewildered at the two of them. "Sammy." Dean says shocked, and embarrassed. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, "Erm…" Castiel, _Cas_, chooses to intervene here to save Dean the hassel of speaking.

"I was just leaving." He says before adding. "But I'll be back soon." Sam nods in a daze as Cas turns to look at Dean, they meet each other's eyes shyly before Cas smiles once more before he vanishes. Reluctantly leaving Dean when he'd only just got back, but Cas knows that he needs to give Dean time to think over what he did, and he needs time for himself to marvel at what he did. He touches his lips, a warm tingling sensation still lingering even though he is no longer with Dean. It is then that he slowly begins to understand the greatness of God's gift of emotion to humans is, and how Afriel could possibly leave them and fall to Earth. Cas is slightly guilty at leaving Dean by himself to explain to Sam exactly what happened but he thinks that Dean would probably know what to say, for Cas doesn't have the faintest idea what he did, and its meaning. Cas smiles to himself as he sits on the park bench, the sun shining as it begins its decent, bathing the empty park in a mixture of red, orange and yellow. He is happy to be home.

_xxx_

And when Cas, checks back later that night, Dean is sleeping peacefully. Without knowing what's he doing, he's leaning over Dean's sleeping form. Placing a soft kiss to the smooth skin of his forehead, for once unmarred by creases of worry. He places two fingers to Dean's temple, making sure he sleeps deeply and completely dream free. He steps back to vanish again when Dean rolls over with a happy smile on his face, eyes still closed in sleep as he let's out a content sigh of, _Cas_.

And to him, that is the best sound in the whole world.

_xxx_

**Thanks for all the feedback! :) Please Review! **

**Love Llama~Chan xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a bit AU because I know some, if not all, of this wasn't included in the episode it was based off. (Which is Series 5 episode 18 :P) Enjoy, please review! x**

_xxx_

Ladies and Gentlemen, the fourth occurrence begins much later when the dawn of the Apocalypse is drawing ever closer and more Demons are roaming free. Sam and Dean have only one more horseman to track down, Death, the most fearsome of them all. However, they are stuck in a motel room waiting and watching, Sam researching thoroughly to find any news of local disasters only to come up with nothing, not a sound, a murmur, of anything. Recently it has become calm, but the sort of calm that is only ever before a raging storm. Dean fidgets, hates sitting still, feeling cramped and closed in from his perch on the edge of his bed, his muscles twitching, aching to be used. He hates this, the horrid feeling of being useless. He should be out there doing the duty that he was born to do, but Dean can't stop the Apocalypse… not without many innocent bystanders getting killed in the process. However, he needs to _try_.

Saving people, hunting things. That is what he should be doing.

Not chilling out, drinking beer.

It's times like this where he thinks he should have said yes to Michael and get the damn thing over with. But then he remembers the last time he tried to do that, Sam's worry, Bobby's frustration and Cas' anger. Cas, _Castiel_, Angel of the fucking Lord angry, with him. Dean would have laughed heartily if Cas hadn't been beating the crap out of him, but he learnt his lesson, he knew why Cas did it, how selfish he'd been. Cas had given up so much for Dean to protect him from Zachariah and his band of nutters, and he was just going to hand himself over. "Don't piss off the nerd angels…" He mumbles bitterly to himself as he opens his second beer. Taking a gulp he sighs and grabs the remote to turn on the crappy little motel TV, he channel searches for a while to take his mind off things, off everything actually. Especially Cas, the bastard. Showing such passionate anger towards him, so possessive and worried about Dean, whispering things softly in his ear as he sat in Bobby's containment cell…Dean shivers, and then he…well, that's what Dean's been trying to figure out lately. What Castiel did. Only to just-

"Dude. Just, pick a channel already." Comes Sammy's voice seemingly out of no where. Dean pauses in his search, the TV stuck on an Animal Documentary. He turns to look at his younger brother sitting on a chair pulled up to the kitchen table, his laptop illuminating his face. Dean grins slightly, Sam's 'Bitch Face Number 64' in plain sight, clearly reading, "My brother is so annoyingly retarded." Dean turns back to the TV and finds 'Dr Sexy MD' playing, he smiles to himself and takes off his boots, he's been wearing them since they arrived at the motel about half an hour or so ago. Dean shuffles backward, so he's leaning against the bed's headboard, and settles down. Taking a sip of beer he watches as the opening credits stop and the programme begins. Sam scoffs distastefully which makes Dean smile, the first genuine smile in two weeks. Which brings us back to the point, Cas, Dean, Bobby's containment cell.

Dean's smile falters as his mind wanders back to his Angel, his stomach pangs at the notice that he is not here and that he has disappeared leaving him with such odd feelings that he doesn't know what to do with himself. He sighs, sips his beer, and watches Dr Sexy kissing one of those prissy nurses. Dean blushes slightly, horrified that he's become so girly as he imagines him and Cas ki- Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it right there Dean Winchester. He tries not to have a mental breakdown and quickly downs half his opened beer. The alcohol warming his insides as it burned down his throat, making his head buzz in an almost pleasant way, but his mind soon returned to Cas. Dammit.

_xxx_

_Dean was pissed off. _

_Which was understandable, considering he'd been locked up like a common dog in the containment cell at Bobby's. Sure he'd ran off to hand himself over to the dicks that are in fact supposed to be Angels, but he'd learnt his lesson and all he wanted was for them to trust him again, to understand why he did what he did. Dean had been getting desperate, and anxious, and frustrated. He thought that being Michael's bitch would have been an easy solution to solving the ever present looming problem that was the apocalypse, but apparently Castiel and the others weren't on the same page. Or on the same wavelength as it were. _

_Dean was pissed, and tired and hungry._

_He was a ticking time bomb for anyone that next walked through the cell door, his muscles shook with a restlessness that he couldn't control, and he was just so bored. Dean ached for something to lash out at, something to scream, and cry, and kick and punch. But there was nothing, except him, sat within that circular prison. He lifted a hand and gently ran it across the small bandage taped to his cheek where a jagged cut was hiding, trying to heal itself from Castiel's brutal beating. Dean never thought the Angel could get so…__**mad**__ at him. For the first time ever since he met Cas, that had been the only time he'd been well and truly petrified of him. He sighed deeply and sat on the creaky bed placed in the middle of the cell, stopping himself from pacing with a certain agitation around the place. Dean was half tempted to lay down and get some shut eye if they really were planning on making him stay there for hours. He hoped not, he didn't like it there. It was too… small, closed in. It brought back unwanted memories, making him shudder and squeeze his eyes shut tightly in an attempt to dispel the images of Alistair from his mind. All thoughts of Hell making his skin ice cold and his hair stand on end, he was tempted to run to the door and bash his fists against it. To shout, to scream, for them to let him out… oh Dear God, please let him out._

_The cell door creaked, and magically opened. Dean opened his eyes and turned around in bafflement to look over his shoulder and saw Castiel stood there, silently staring at him with such sadness and regret, as well as an odd determination. "Cas?" The Angel cautiously stepped into the cell, his powers shutting the door behind him. Dean doesn't blame him for acting suspicious, after all the last time he'd come in Dean had banished him with the blood Angel symbol, a sneaky move but he had been desperate at the time. Words didn't need to be said, but the Winchester had a feeling that Cas had heard his attempt at praying, his anxiousness at being locked up here by himself. For that, he was glad._

"_Dean." Came the Angel's gruff reply as he walked closer so he was stood beside Dean, who remained on the squeaky bed. _

_Silence._

_Dean opened his mouth to explain as he looked at Castiel, wanting him to see the feelings he had swimming in his green eyes. Try to make him understand that he had been desperate, that was why he had done what he did because he was a Winchester, and self sacrifice was popular within their family. It was in Dean's nature, his blood, to give himself up for those he loved; to try and keep them safe and __**alive**__. Obviously he had been mistaken, judging by the numerous cuts and bruises he had decorating his body like rough sex gone horribly wrong. Dean hid a smirk at the thought of S&M and then remembered what he'd said to Cas… "__**Wow, Cas. Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that... I got laid.**__" The Angel simply tilted his head slightly, and the look on his face made Dean squirm as if Castiel knew what he'd been thinking, creepy. No one spoke for a couple of minutes, and Dean began to get edgy; he began to wonder why Cas had even come down to see him in the first place if all he was going to do was stare at him. "I'm not going to apologise for what I did." Said Dean as he looked away from Castiel, stubbornness rising within him, as he thought that his decision was still the right one. "I just want you to understand."_

"_And I want you to understand me." Replied Castiel, "But you don't seem to be listening." Dean swung his head round and glared, his green eyes meeting Cas' blue ones._

"_Can't you see this is the only way? The __**only **__way to save the lives of hundreds of people?"_

"_By giving up?" _

"…" _Castiel's retort made Dean go silent. His eyes moved as he looked down at himself bitterly, silently ashamed at what he'd done. Castiel really knew how to bring out his emotions, knew what made Dean tick, and knew how to make him feel so important and special one minute; and then small and insignificant the next. "Shut up." He grumbled, defences going up as he tried to block the Angel out, pretend he's not even there, dig him out from where he'd gotten under his skin._

"_Dean."_

"_I said-" Dean looked up to growl 'shut up' one more time at the Angel, to try and drill the message into his head that he no longer wanted him there anymore, that he wanted Sam here to talk to him; calm him down. But he never got to that, never managed to utter a single word as Castiel cupped his cheeks, turned his head quickly to the side and placed a soft, warm kiss onto the bandage where his cut remained. He pulled back slightly, so he could see the blush on Dean's freckled cheeks and observe his green eyes to see how he felt. Castiel always knew how to read him._

"_I heard what you said." Then he turned Dean's head the other way and resumed to place a very tender kiss on that cheek. The hunter was quiet, baffled, as he let the Angel place soft caressing kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, even his nose but not his lips. Castiel drew back from him once more to gaze into his eyes, see if he should stop or carry on. He could see that Dean's stubbornness was nearly gone, and all that remained was an odd sort of… look, Cas couldn't quite make out what it meant. It was like Dean was truly seeing him for the first time. Dean could see that Castiel, although much less angry than before, was still determined to sway him into seeing Cas' side of the argument, understand why he was so mad. But Dean couldn't, couldn't see it and wasn't willing to if the Angel wasn't going to see his._

_However, what he didn't know was that Castiel already had._

"_Cas? What-?"_

"_So beautiful." Castiel whispered, as he kissed Dean's bandaged cheek once more. This time pressing his plump lips a bit harder onto his skin, making the kiss last a bit longer as their bodies tingled pleasantly at the contact. Cas placed a hand softly onto Dean's chest, where his heart was frantically pounding in his chest, and he immediately knew that the Angel was again talking about his soul, possibly his looks too but his soul was the main attraction. _

"_I still don't agree with you." Dean murmured, Castiel chuckled deeply and stepped back. A sad smile on his lips, he was still within touching distance and in Dean's personal space but for now he'd stopped his kissing escapade. (Although, a part of Dean was disappointed about that.)_

"_So stubborn."_

"_So are you." Dean's reply hardened Castiel's expression to purely business. _

"_But Dean, this time I am right." He spoke softly, but with a silent power and authority behind his words. "You are wrong." A flash of red, burning anger tainted Dean's vision as Castiel walked quickly to the cell door, about to leave Dean alone once more. At this fact Dean stood up and stepped towards the Angel,_

"_Castiel, wait." The Angel waited, and turned around and didn't expect Dean to be there. Momentarily stunned Dean casually reached out and grabbed Castiel's dark blue tie, and with a tug the Angel lost his balance and stumbled. Straight into Dean who used that to his advantage and briefly hugged him, before gently grasping Cas' chin tilting his head just so to allow Dean to place a quick, light kiss on __**his **__cheek. The hunter returning the favour to his Angel. "I'm sorry." And Dean was sorry, he was sorry he was so stubborn and that he only saw his side of the story, but he was beginning to think otherwise, he still wanted Castiel to know, to understand him. Forgive him._

"_Too late Dean." The regret in Cas' voice was too hard to bare as the Angel stepped out of Dean's embrace with a face hard as stone, but there were a few cracks to be seen. Where Castiel was beginning to go soft, and become tempted to tell Dean that he actually understood, that he forgave him. But he thought it best to let Dean stew so he could have a taste of his own medicine and see how Castiel had felt when Dean was going to give it all up; betray them all and become a puppet in the Angel's plan. So he simply left without turning back, which was the hardest thing he ever had to do._

_xxx_

Dean's still upset about what had happened in the panic room. He is hurt, and he feels betrayed and stupid. How could he have been so blind? Castiel, and the others, had been right… why was he willing to give up so easily? He sips at his beer, his second bottle nearly empty as he swirls the rest with a flick of his wrist. Guilt begins eating at Dean from the inside out as he remembers how Adam had disappeared, taken away by Michael to become his vessel.

How stupid he's been.

Now Castiel was MIA, Dean has heard nothing from the Angel after that disaster. The Angel too busy in his search for God once more, no matter how impossible the mission seemed Castiel carried on with it anyway. Similar to how Dean had been once, when he was searching for his Dad; John Winchester. Working hard, never giving up, since when had that changed? Dean downs the rest of his beer and quietly places the bottle onto the bedside table and picks up another. The TV's volume has been turned down by this point as Sam lays in the nearby bed, snoring softly as he sleeps peacefully; untainted by bad dreams of torture, blood and cruelty like Dean so often is. Dean huffs as he silently undresses for bed and clambers in, settling down as he lays his head on the pillow, frowning in thought as he begins to worry. About Cas, what Cas now thought of him and how strange Cas has been acting recently with the compliments, soft touches, caresses, _kisses. _

Dean has to admit he is awesome sometimes, like Batman, but right now he feels nothing like a superhero, he feels like a jerk. He sucks. He then tries to recall when he became so possessive of Cas, and how worried he is about where the Angel has gone, like some kind of 'Mother Hen'. His subconscious listing various reasons, and Dean supposes that his Big Brother Bravado is watching out for Cas like he is, and always will be, towards Sammy.

He sighs and opens his third beer.

It seems that everyone he loves Dean latches onto them and makes sure they never leave, what with the Apocalypse hanging over the heads like a bad smell his protectiveness is stronger than ever before. But then he stops, his mind no longer paying attention to 'Dr Sexy MD' strutting his stuff on the TV in his trademark cowboy boots. Dean back-pedals, rewinds as his subconscious plays back the 'Everyone he loves' part of his thought train. He loves Cas? Dean's subconscious gives a round of applause, as if to say "Finally he's got it." and there is a brief smugness before Dean chokes on the mouthful of beer he was in the process of swallowing, his subconscious figures that this newest piece of information didn't arrive at the best of times. Coughing and spluttering, Dean tries to retain his composure so his brother doesn't wake up and is silently glad that he's not still awake, because he knows that Sammy would send looks at him from over the top of his laptop. An eyebrow arched in a 'What the hell, Dude?' expression, courtesy of Sam fucking Winchester.

Gulping in strangled breaths, Dean calms himself. No use sending himself to Hospital from a heart attack. But it's…one hell of a shock. Dean in love with Cas. He didn't see that one coming…he'd always been a Lady Killer, a lover of fine curves and big boobs, so…why? How? … **Dean in love with Cas.**

Jesus he needs more beer.

So he gulps a few more mouthfuls of the stuff down before he decides he really should stop. It wouldn't be good if Death came knocking in the morning and he couldn't do anything because of a hangover. He puts the beer aside and gets comfy under the duvet, the material smelling faintly of cheap washing detergent as he settles down and closes his eyes. Another reason why Cas' departure sucked, Dean's nightmares had returned even worse than before. Bad isn't it? Very bad indeed. Dean missed the stupid Angel, and his mind never seemed to settle during these cold nights without him, but the beer had effectively gone to his head. Making his senses buzz and become fuzzy, as if he was swimming in honey. His eye lids grew heavy, and then he was gone. Lost to the world, and is met with a nightmare…

_xxx_

Before the screams begin he's awoken by something, a soft very male hand on his shoulder, right over the hand print made by Castiel. A soothing voice, a familiar face. Dean relaxes and the tears stop as he looks into the eyes of the one person he's been missing. "_Cas?_" His own voice made Dean cringe, just at how weak and scared it sounded. The name he uttered sounding odd and distorted as his voice cracked slightly, his throat and lips dry.

"Dean?" But that isn't Cas, it's Sammy. The lamp on the bedside table is turned on and Dean is in fact looking up at his baby brother, who's brown mop of hair is in tangles as his eyes stare in worry, and horror, at him. He could see Sam was shaken by Dean's sleeping pattern, but then Sam could see his brother would definitely be in no mood to talk about it. Dean's face was pale, and his eyes were opened wide in a stunned 'deer in the headlights' kind of look, as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. His whole body slightly sticky from perspiration as he shakes slightly, but he hides that part quite well from his brother's searching eyes as Sammy looks Dean over to make sure he is okay. "You okay dude?"

"Y-yeah, Sammy. I'm fine-e… you go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"100 per cent." They stare at each other for a few intense seconds until Dean does his best to get a grip of himself and gives his brother a typical wolfish grin. "I'm _fine, _bitch." Sam gets the message and smiles in relief,

"Jerk."With that Sam turns off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness once more, as he climbs into his own bed and settles down again for the night. Then it isn't long before his breathing turns deeper, and slower and then gradually becomes soft snores as he returns to his dreamless sleep. Dean notices how silent the room is because the TV has finally been switched off, probably by Sam during the time he'd been… well… He massages his temples and looks down at the bed, one hand still clutching his head as the other grips the duvet tightly in between his fingers. Why did he still think of Alastair? How he was tortured to the point where he just couldn't take it, _couldn't take it anymore so he had to… _So he had to get off the rack and be the one putting people in the same position as him, become a monster just like Alastair. The worst part for Dean was not the pain from his own beatings, but the pure enjoyment he received when he was committing beatings on other souls. Watching them scream, and cry, and bleed in sheer agony as he grinned like a mad man. Having fun with each cut and slice he made with his trusty knife.

Dean shudders unpleasantly and rushes into the tiny, motel bathroom to splash cold water on his face. In a moment he ponders on the fact that he should call Cas for help, for guidance during this difficult time. But before he even utters Castiel's name he stops himself, re-evaluates the situation as his blood runs cold at the sheer thought that…that… That Cas wouldn't come because he no longer _cares _about someone so pathetically worthless like Dean. Someone who was just a mere speck of dirt on his angelic trench coat. Dean breathes deeply, sucking in oxygen as he tries to calm himself down, slow the fast pace of his heart and reduce the constricting pain in his chest. For a second Dean thinks he is going to die from a panic attack, but then his heart slows back to a normal thud and all seems a lot… calmer.

Now he was recovering Dean knew one thing for sure, Cas wasn't gonna pay a visit anytime soon so he couldn't risk falling asleep again just in case a nightmare came for him a second time. He couldn't, wouldn't, put Sammy in an awful situation again like earlier. He could see Sam's eyes, how scared they looked as he didn't know what to do about him and his stupid fucking nightmares. Dean groans. Why couldn't they just _go away_? He splashes more cold water on his face and slaps his cheeks a little to fully awaken himself, he looks up briefly and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "That can't be me…" He murmurs to himself, as he stares at his reflection in shock. The man in the mirror looks so pale, so frightened with black bags under his eyes, and said green eyes wide open looking like they were going to fall out of his head. Just the thought of it and the knowledge that Alastair, the bastard, had even gone so far to do it nearly made Dean throw up. But he swallows it down, all of it down including his feelings of fear as he tries to stuff it back into a box where he couldn't bother him anymore. The action so difficult tears actually fall from Dean's eyes, and when he's finished forgetting he is on his knees, shoulders shaking with the force of it. His hands gripping the sink to hold him up as he gets to his feet.

This time when he looks into the mirror, his reflection is even _worse._

His face has grown even more paler, his cheeks wet with tears. Beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face from his forehead, his hair stuck up all over the place. "Oh Dear God…" Dean whispers in horror, he tries to fight back the impulse to punch the mirror into tiny shards and turns away. Repulsed at his own image, he is pathetic. Weak **and **pathetic. No wonder Cas… oh Cas. Dean stumbles out of the bathroom and heads for the small kitchen, wiping his tears away and forgetting the Angel as he goes to make coffee. Surprisingly the familiar routine calms him and he finds a numbness within himself that is comforting, his limbs no longer shaking as he waits for the kettle to stop boiling. Minutes later, the scent of strong, black, coffee taints the air as Dean walks to go sit at the table where Sam had been sitting at earlier with his laptop, researching. He moves all the stuff, including Sam's laptop as well as his own duffel bag, out of the way so he doesn't accidentally spill his coffee everywhere and sits down. Sam's snoring the only thing he can hear as he sips at the bitter liquid, the warmth of the drink settles Dean's nerves and the caffeine seems to be doing its job as he feels more awake. He sniffles as he glances at his duffel bag on the table, temptation nagging at him to reach out and grab it, search for something in there that might help if Castiel wouldn't. Dean bit his lip, but then finally reaches for his duffel bag and opens it. Coffee in one hand, he rummages through it with the other and sure enough he finds what he is looking for. At the bottom of the bag, hidden under clothes and a few weapons is a small, black book.

A Bible…

Dean pushes away his duffel bag and sets the book down on the table in front of him. Sipping his coffee he debates on whether or not he should open it, because he isn't necessarily religious and he doesn't even know why he bought the damn thing in the first place. But he just saw it, sitting in a book shop one day in a town they were hunting in, and as soon as he saw the golden lettering saying 'Bible' he thought of Cas, and then, well… he went and bought it, and hadn't looked at it since. At the time though, it felt like the right thing to do and somewhere inside of Dean a feeling of hope light up like a blaze when he'd handed the guy behind the counter the bills for it. He could tell the cashier was confused why a guy like him would buy the Bible, 'cause he doesn't necessarily look like the religious type.

Dean drains the rest of his coffee, places the mug down, and cautiously opens the Bible to 'Genesis'. Then he reads, and reads and reads. His grip on the book getting tighter with each page he turns, his knuckles turning white as every word he reads he receives an overwhelming feeling of _Cas_. Dean misses his nerd Angel, and he's so sorry, and all he wants is to apologise and be given one more chance. He is stubborn though, and he doesn't want to completely give up hope that Castiel will never visit him again, Dean is loyal and he will never ever give up on someone he loves. Which brings back his memories of earlier, the sudden realisation that maybe he… was in love with said Angel and what he felt wasn't just family affection. All the thinking takes its toll on Dean and he feels his eyes lids growing heavier, his body slouching over the table as his muscles ache and grow tired. He fights it, he truly does, but his body and mind crave sleep so something had to cave between the fight of the strong forces. It's Dean who loses, his eyes closing as he falls into the dark oblivion of his nightmarish sleep, back into the arms of Alastair while his head drops and rests on the Bible.

But nothing could help him where he was going, not even faith.

_xxx_

_But in this dream, there is no Alastair. No torture. Dream Dean breathes a sigh of relief at the fact that maybe tonight he could sleep peacefully, without the need of Angelic intervention. _

_The dream itself is quite simple. He is sat on the hood of the Impala, his baby, with a beer. Drinking as he watches the sun set, burning the blue sky with bright reds, oranges and yellows. The scene is beautiful and breathtaking, and also holds a sense of déjà vu. Then Dean remembers he had done this before, during the time Sam was at Stanford and his Dad was off hunting by himself, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It was a quiet time, a time where he could relax without having to act like a parent for Sammy, or like the perfect son for his Dad. Dean closes his eyes as a breeze whistles through the surrounding trees where he parked his car, and he can hear a trickle of running water from a nearby stream. He had found a rare place, hidden from the busy road that was a few miles behind him, and he made it his own personal Heaven. _

_Dean sips his cool, refreshing beer and sighs in content. Then, out of the trees, Sam is there wearing a suit that's a bit too white, and a smile a bit too Lucifer and it sets off the memory of his visit to the future, seeing his future self having his neck broken under a white foot, by the Lord of Hell. Despair settles over Dean and he feels smothered, his once peaceful dream cracked as the beer disappears from his hand and he is no longer sat on the car, but facing __**him**__. The guy he didn't want to see, Lucifer wearing his brother like a dress to a Prom. He's broken in ways he didn't know he could be, he'd failed... Sammy was gone, he'd failed himself, his brother, his Mom, and his father. Sam and Lucifer have gone now, he would be happy except that he can't see, or hear, or touch, or taste. "Oh Dear God, help… help me." He can't even think properly, and it feels like nothing exists outside of this dark world, not even him. Who is he anyway? What was his name? Did he… does he even have one? He can't remember, can't think… he can't even feel his own body here. Does he have a body? Well he's sure he did at one point but now, all he can possibly feel is an aching pain, a shaking panic that is rattling straight through him. He tries to calm himself but the pain is too great, and before they've even fallen he knows he's crying, he needs help, needs a lift, a guiding hand to steady himself… what even is crying? _

_But no one's here, its just black, black darkness and Cas, there's no sign of him... is he dead? Has he been captured? Or has he finally seen him for the broken, useless man that he is and abandoned him to what he rightfully deserves? Now he is struggling to remember the bright light of hope that is his Angel, what was his name again? Ca-Ca…Cassiel? Cassy? _

_Death, darkness, isolation. _

_Tears flooding, blood pounding. He's drowning in nothingness, he can't breathe, can't scream and all he can see is black, black, black. "__**Dean!**__" Who's…who's that? "__**Dean!**__" Someone was calling to him, he could hear, it was a miracle! The name Dean sounded familiar, was that his? "__**Dean, open your eyes!**__" It was his name, and at remembering his name he began to feel again, the wet tears on his face, smell the saltiness of them, taste it… he had a body, an existence, a voice._

"_Who…who is it?" He could think, he knew it was all a dream and it wasn't real. He knew who he was, "I'm Dean Winchester…My name is Dean. I have a brother called Sam, my Dad was called John. We… we hunt monsters." Colours filter in through the edges of his vision as his eyes lids flutter, he begins to will himself to wake up and find out who is calling him, his name. Just when he thinks it will never end, when Dean thinks he will never see the real world again…_

_**He opens his eyes.**_

_xxx _

This time when Dean is woken from the nightmare its Cas' hand who's shaking his shoulder gently, frantically calling his name. "Dean?" The voice, that voice was in his dream… Dean sits up abruptly, Castiel clutching his marked shoulder, his hand fitting perfectly with his mark.

"It was… it was you." Dean whispers as he looks up at Castiel with wide eyes. "Thank you." The Angel looks slightly shaken and scared, and Dean has to think then if it's possible for Angels to look like that when Cas grabs hold of him, lifts him quickly out of his chair and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. Dean's heart beats loudly in his chest in surprise at the action, "Cas?"

"You scared me." Those three words surprise him into silence as they stand there, pressed together, bodies touching and tingling in the warmth of each other. Slowly, Dean lifts his arms up and hugs back the scene so similar to the one not too long ago when Dean was grieving from listening to Sam's cries at Bobby's. For a few moments no one speaks, until Castiel steps out of the hug and spots the Bible on the table, his grace warms at the sight of the book as he looks at Dean in surprise. "You read it?" Dean nods, and looks worriedly at Sam to see if he'd heard Dean's dreaming and been woken up. But he hadn't.

"Don't worry about him." Castiel says softly, "He is deeply sleeping." Dean nods to that too, guessing Cas had used some of his Angel mojo on his brother so he wouldn't be disturbed, for which he is grateful for. However, before he has the chance to say thank you once again his knees buckle beneath him, Dean's whole body shaking violently as Castiel catches him and leads him to his bed so he could lay down. Seeing his bed, Dean's eyes open wide in fright at the possibility of sleeping again.

"No… no!" He says, "I don't want to." Castiel understands his frantic panic, but forces him into the bed.

"Dean, don't worry."

"But…"

"Trust me." After Cas' reply Dean complies and lays still as he's tucked into bed, by an Angel no less. When the job is done Castiel kneels by the bed and strokes Dean's hair softly, watching the Hunter slowly calm and see his soul begin singing happily, no longer scared. He is always fascinated by Dean and he stares as said person sighs in content, his eyes fluttering closed; the black lashes hypnotising Castiel. Briefly the motel room returns to being quiet before Dean speaks,

"Cas, I'm so sorry." The Angel knows why the apology was said and thinks that now he should definitely let Dean know he forgave him all those days ago, and that he knew and understood his part of the story. Guilt settles in. If it weren't for him, Dean probably never would've gone through this, and he would have to live with the guilt forever because he wanted to teach him a lesson.

"I know Dean." He says, "I forgive you." At that Dean's body shudders in relief as his pink, plump lips are pulled into a small smile on his face.

"Cas?"

"Sleep Dean." The Angel goes to touch Dean's forehead to allow him the peaceful sleep he deserves, but before his fingers grace the hunter's temple Dean whispers something in his half asleep state.

"I love you." Castiel is momentarily stunned before his grace hums in happiness and he smiles brightly, his first real smile that, unluckily, no one sees.

"I love you too." With that, Cas touches Dean's forehead and the hunter is fast asleep. Dean loves him. Castiel stands up slowly in shock, a good sort of shock though. Dean loves him. It was all his fault, and he shouldn't have been gone away for so long but, Dean loves him… Castiel should've been the one to say sorry and ask for forgiveness but that doesn't matter, as by the sounds of it he's already been forgiven because… because, _Dean loves him._

Normally this would be the time when he normally disappears, but Castiel doesn't have the heart to vanish after Dean's confession and decides to stay. So he goes to sit in the seat previously occupied by Dean and looks at the Bible, picking it up and reading it where Dean had left off. Although, he shouldn't bother because he already knew the book word for word but it would pass the time until Dean woke in the morning. Daylight caressing his beautiful features, highlighting his hair, making his cheeks flush to a pinkish hue, eyelashes black as ebony fluttering on freckled cheeks. For the hunter's way of life, Dean is so boyish, even pretty, and full of righteousness, and hope and _love._ Which made even his soul shine and glitter in such a way that every other soul Castiel had ever seen pales in comparison to his charge's powerful glimmer. He's in trouble he knows, everything else doesn't matter as much as Dean, everything is less important than Dean, his heart and grace and mind focused solely on Dean, Dean, _Dean._ Castiel would do anything and everything for the hunter, he would stop at nothing even if it meant he fell from his Angelic perch, then so be it. If he loses his grace it wouldn't matter, because he would have Dean and Dean would have him because the hunter _loves him _and Castiel loves him also. So **that **is the most important thing to Cas, Dean's renegade nerd Angel. He closes the Bible and glances over at Dean who has turned over onto to his side so he's now facing him, his sleeping face making him look so innocent and young that a wave of protectiveness attacks Cas. Making his love, that has grown and grown since he raised him from perdition, for Dean burn strongly within him… and for an Angel to feel that much about a human was a miracle in itself.

Would wonders never cease?


End file.
